


P.Y.T. (Pretty Young Thing)

by equinope



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Domestic, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Dinner Party, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mild Blood, Pining Levi, awkward!levi, flowerchild!Eren
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2016-06-13
Packaged: 2018-03-18 06:17:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3559166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/equinope/pseuds/equinope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Levi lives next door to Hanji and Erwin in a neighborhood straight out of a 1950s suburbia ad, where all the houses are identical and everyone knows each other's name. It's the beginning of spring and the humans are emerging from hibernation. The sun is shining and the birds are chirping and life is good. Well, life is good for everyone except Levi. </p><p>Levi is being driven insane by his neighbor from across the street. This neighbor likes to water the flowers in his front yard pretty often... while wearing short-shorts, tank tops, and singing and dancing to a Michael Jackson playlist. That person's name is Eren and his gleaming smiles and ocean eyes are making Levi's life a living hell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wanna Be Startin' Somethin'

**Author's Note:**

> so it was a really, really nice day the other day.  
> i got the urge to listen to Michael Jackson.  
> then i got the urge to write.  
> then this happened.  
> it got weird...
> 
> i wasted so much time on this fic. please help me.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The injury.

It’s a beautiful spring day, so I decide to sit out on my porch and relax. Maybe read a book, maybe take a nap, my options are open. My yard, as well as the inside of my house, is already in pristine condition for the day, so I have some time on my hands. I’m thinking it’s going to be a nice, stress-free day of doing absolutely nothing for once. And then my neighbors come around and fuck it up.

***

I sit on my porch swing, slowly rocking back and forth, watching a couple of birds as they chase each other from tree to tree around the neighborhood. It’s partly cloudy, not too cold and not too warm, with a slight breeze. As I look up and down the street in an attempt to keep up with the stupid birds, I notice that every single house has its front window open. Over half of them have their front door open, the inhabitants walking in and out as they go about their day. There’s a group of kids down a ways playing some weird version of tag. Another group zooms past me on their bikes and scooters, heading in the direction of the park. It’s an absolutely fucking perfect day and everyone’s taking advantage of it.

I decide to give up on the birds and relax a little more, resting my head against the back of the swing and closing my eyes. A gust of wind blows by, causing the wind chime hanging next to my front door to start its wind chime-y song. I let out a heavy sigh and sink into the bench. Every muscle in my body seems to relax. I’m in such an absolutely fucking amazing mood, it feels like no one could ruin it.

“Good afternoon, Levi,” a deep voice calls out. I open my right eye and see my next door neighbor, Erwin, come out of his house. His front door makes an old, creaking sound as he lets it go and then slams shut, the sound of metal on wood echoing down the street. It’s an extremely common sound within the neighborhood. Everyone’s doors are like that. Everyone’s [houses](http://photos3.zillowstatic.com/p_h/ISt0su8f3z5gnr1000000000.jpg) are practically identical, since they were all built in the 1950s. We still have fucking milk chutes and our mail delivered on foot. It’s ridiculous.

I watch as Erwin walks across his porch and sits down on his porch swing, nearly the same as mine, except his wood is still brown and mine is painted white. He turns his head and smiles at me, his perfect teeth glistening in the sun. He’s so fucking friendly. I swear, everyone around here is shooting fucking rainbows and glitter out their ass 24/7. I just stare at Erwin, probably glaring, and he just continues to smile at me, all genuine and happy and sparkling. I droop my shoulders slightly, feeling defeated.

I’d rather die before admitting it, but despite what I say and how I act, I actually kind of like this neighborhood a little. Or maybe a lot. It’s like when everyone’s home on the weekends, they all jump into one of those 1950s suburbia ads, where everyone’s smiling and sipping on their beer and leaning across white picket fences to talk to each other, not giving a shit about the world outside their little suburban bubble. It’s strangely entertaining… and kind of nice.

“Earth to Levi!” Erwin calls out again, waving at me now, still shining like the fucking sun. Damn him.

“Hey, Erwin,” I say in monotone. I give him a wave to please him before shutting my eyes again.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you come outside in months! Other than to scurry into your car, of course. You’re as pale as a ghost!”

I open my eyes again and look down at my body. I’m wearing knee-length shorts and a t-shirt, the most skin I’ve shown since probably September. I am a bit pale, but I really don’t give a shit.

“I like to hibernate during the winter, you know that,” I reply. “I can’t tolerate anything below 60 degrees.”

Erwin laughs his loud, hearty laugh and says, “I know, I’m just giving you a hard time.”  _Yes, because I appreciate that so much_ , I think. “Speaking of your hibernation, you’re welcome for shoveling your driveway and your sidewalk for you.”

“Ah, shit.” I glance over at him and, thank god, he’s still smiling. I don’t know what would happen if I pissed off a man like Erwin. I don’t get why he keeps shoveling for me every year either, even though I stopped asking. I can’t even remember to thank him. Why he’s so nice to a shithead like me, I’ll never understand. I start to get up to go get my wallet so I can pay him, but he motions for me to stop.

“No, no, no, I don’t need money or anything, Levi. All I ask for is a thank you,” he says. I give him a skeptical look and hesitantly sit back down again.

“You’ve always wanted money. What’s so different about this time?” I question, and all he does is shrug. He just  _shrugs_  and crosses his legs, opening the book he brought outside with him.

“Eyebrows,” I bark. He doesn’t even look up. “Answer me!” He takes his reading glasses out of his pocket and puts them on. “Don’t you fucking ignore me, shitty eyebrows!”

He has this aggravating little smirk on his stupid face and says, “There’s children out, watch your language.”

I groan and get up from my swing, grabbing the bird feeder that’s hanging from the overhang. I reach my hand into it and snatch a handful of seed. Then I walk over to the right edge of the porch and throw it in Erwin’s direction. I must have had perfect aim because the seeds cascade all around him, making little clicking sounds as they land on the swing. Some of them even get in his hair. “Why the hell don’t you want my money?!” I shout.

Seeming completely undisturbed, Erwin glances over at me and laughs. “For someone so smart, you’re a complete dumbass.”

I roll my eyes and give him the most unamused look I can pull, which I think is probably pretty frightening. He doesn’t seem affected by it at all though. So, I resort to throwing more seed at him. He just keeps laughing and laughing as I waste my entire stock of bird seed on him, the little fucker. When I run out, I reach under the porch and grab the biggest rock I can find. I pull my arm back as if I’m actually going to throw it at him. I think he knows I would never do that, but nonetheless, he puts his hands up in surrender.

“Okay, I don’t think you understand how friendship works, Levi,” he says in between laughs. I slowly lower my arm and glare at him in confusion. What the hell does friendship have to do with him not wanting me to pay him for shoveling my driveway? “Oh, don’t give me that look, you grouch. We’ve helped each other out plenty of times. We’re friends and you know it.”

“Okay, sure, whatever, but what the fuck does that have to do with anything? Just answer my question,” I say. Now he’s the one rolling his eyes for some strange reason.

“Honestly, Levi, you’re so dense sometimes,” he drawls.

“What is that supposed to mean?” I say, almost whining. I’m so done with his shit for the day, I don’t think I even care to figure out why he won’t accept my money anymore. I just want to get back to relaxing and enjoying my Saturday.

“It’s nothing, Levi,” he sighs, suddenly seeming just as done with my shit as I am with his. He slides his glasses up his nose and looks at his book once again. “Just go back to your nap.”

“Gladly,” I grumble, throwing the rock back in its place and plopping down on the swing. I return to my slouched position and exhale.

The wind blows and the wind chimes chime again. The only other sounds are birds chirping, the faint screams of kids at the park, and the distant sound of a leaf blower from a few blocks over. The smell of clean laundry wafts in from somewhere nearby. I’m able to relax again surprisingly quickly. After a few minutes, I even feel like I could fall asleep.

***

I hear Michael Jackson. He’s in my front lawn, singing, being extra careful not to step on any of my plants. Thanks, Michael Jackson, you’re the man. Then suddenly, it’s not Michael Jackson anymore. No, not at all. He fades away and then all I can see is black. There’s another voice singing the same song, a really pretty voice. It sounds slightly familiar, too.

I come out of my dream land and open my eyes, blinking a few times until my vision focuses. Shit, how long was I asleep for? I look at my watch to see that only an hour has passed. I glance out of the corner of my eye at Erwin’s house. He’s not outside anymore, but there’s plenty of banging coming from inside. The sound of aluminum smashing against stuff drifts out his front window and door and into the street.  _Erwin’s cooking again_ … thinks everyone in earshot, probably.

I snort at my own joke and look forward. And then I nearly have a heart attack.

It’s all because of my fucking neighbor from across the street, Eren, the 24 year old kid that god must have sent down from heaven specifically to make my life a living hell. He has  _P.Y.T._  by Michael Jackson playing on these huge ass speakers in his garage. He’s singing and dancing around in his front yard, using a baby blue watering can with yellow flowers painted on to it to water his fucking acre of flowers. He has his hair pushed back with a headband made of flowers. And to top it all off, he’s wearing a hot pink muscle shirt and Nike shorts that only go, like, a quarter of the way down his thighs, showing of his warm, tan skin that glows in the afternoon sun.

I hate Eren so much. I hate him with every molecule of my cold, black heart.

I must end up sitting there, doing absolutely nothing but stare, for over 10 minutes. How long does it take a brat to water his goddamn flowers? A whole fucking eternity, that’s how long. He just takes his sweet, old time, prancing around and singing every word of every Michael Jackson song that plays at the top of his lungs like he doesn’t give a single fuck about what anyone else thinks. He’s such a fucking asshole. I hate him. I hate him, I hate him, I hate him.

“You enjoying the view?” a very obnoxious voice says from about five feet away. I jump into the far right corner of the swing, nearly having another heart attack at the hands of my other next door neighbor, Hanji. She’s standing at the top of the steps that lead to my porch with the biggest, brightest, shit-eating grin on her face, rocking back forth from heel to toe with her hands stuffed in the pockets of her frilly gardening apron. I huff and roll my eyes, quickly moving my gaze to a squirrel messing around in one of Eren’s trees. I definitely wasn’t admiring that fucking shitty ass brat from across the street as he hopped around in his front yard singing every Michael Jackson song known to man with unwavering pride. Definitely, one hundred percent, not.

“What the fuck are you talking about, four eyes? What do you want?” I question reluctantly. She’s going to give me shit. I know she is, and I don’t even know how to stop her.

She skips across the porch, literally  _skips_ , and tries to squish herself on to the swing next to me. I glare menacingly and elbow her in the side, but slide over anyway. As much as I hate to admit it, Hanji is good company sometimes. I stress the  _sometimes_  though. Her and Erwin are almost on the same level of my annoying scale.

“Oh, nothing...” she says in a singsong voice. I glance over at her to see her still grinning with this mischievous glint in her eyes. It‘s completely and utterly terrifying. Hanji only ever has that look when she’s formulating some shitty plan in her mind, and her shitty plans involve fucking with me probably half the time and Erwin the other half. I give her my signature death stare, mentally threatening her to keep her insane ideas to herself. If she says one word about a certain neighbor, I swear... If her scheme involves the “view” from across the street I’m going to-

“So, when are you gonna quit staring and actually talk to that cutie?” Hanje says in a hushed tone, completely ignoring my attempts at telepathic threats. I cross my arms in front of my chest defensively and slouch a little, wishing I could sink right through the swing and into the ground. Why does she have to actually notice things? The little fucker...

“Piss off,” I grumble. “I wasn’t staring at that asshole.” She just giggles and bumps my shoulder a little.

“I don’t think I’ve ever witnessed you pining over someone before, Levi. It’s adorable.”

“W-What the fuck?! I’m not fucking-” I fade off mid-sentence and sigh loudly, leaning my head against the back of the swing in frustration. There’s no point in trying to lie to Hanji. She knows me well enough to know when I’m telling the truth. And if I said I wasn’t at all interested in the kid across the street, I would not be telling the truth. But even she can’t stop me from telling myself over and over that Eren is a completely awful, annoying, dorky, adorable, gorgeous... pain-in-my-ass,  _fucking disgusting shithead_  and that I, without a doubt,  _hate_  his pretty guts!  _And I. hate. him._

“Oh honey, you’re blushing,” she coos, petting my head and pushing it down on to her shoulder. I keep my arms crossed, but don’t even bother trying to move my head. Resistance would be futile. Hanji is a force to be reckoned with. Damn her.

“I’m not blushing,” I mutter, even though it was obvious I was. Curse my shitty, uncooperative body.  

“Mhm, whatever you say, munchkin-”

“How many times do I have to tell you for it to get through your thick skull? Don’t fucking call me that!”

“Maybe if you go talk to that cutie pie across the street, I’ll consider giving you a new nickname, munchkin,” she says, rubbing a hand up and down my arm in an attempt to comfort me. “And when I say talk, I mean actually have a conversation, not just grunt when he returns your mail that accidentally got delivered to his house.”

“I’m never talking to that piece of shit. Never,” I argue, followed by a sigh.The song blasting out of the dork’s speakers switches to  _Don’t Stop ‘Till You Get Enough_. I peek over to see that he’s moved on from watering. Now he’s dusting all the flower pots, even the ones hanging from his roof. He’s so fucking tall, damn him.

“ _Woo!_ ” In time with the song, Eren suddenly lets out a high-pitched woo, cocks his hip to one side, and flings his hands up in the air, his shirt riding up a little and exposing more of his skin. With his back side facing Hanji and I.

“Oh, jesusfuckingchristgoddammitalltohell,” I whine and hide my face in Hanji’s chest, hugging her and holding on for dear life. “I can’t take it. I cannot fucking take him anymore.”

“Oh, honey. He’s pretty, I know,” she says, running her fingers through my hair. “Maybe if you’d go talk to him, you wouldn’t feel like this anymore.”

“Fuuuccckkkkk,” I groan. This was supposed to be a nice, peaceful day, but apparently that’s not allowed. First, Erwin’s a confusing asshole. Then, I get woken up from my lovely nap by a stupid fucking life-ruining brat. Then, Hanji starts giving me shit about pining over said brat. I just can’t have one relaxing day, can I?

“Hey, did you ever think he might be doing all this on purpose… just to tease you?” she says. I can tell she’s smirking without even looking at her.

“He doesn’t give a shit about anyone, let alone me.”

“I don’t think that’s true at all.”

“Whatever,” I mumble.

I just sit there for a good song and a half, droning on and on in my head about how miserable my life and how terrible Eren is while Hanji silently strokes my hair. She really isn’t all that bad. Neither is Erwin. I should apologize to him later.

“Hey, munchkin?” Hanji says a little over halfway through  _Wanna Be Startin’ Somethin’_.

“What?” I hiss. She really needs to stop calling me that.

“I normally wouldn’t care, but you do know you’re lying on my boobs, right?”

“Oh come on, can’t you just get over this once? I’m straight as a fucking circle, it’s not like I’m getting any pleasure out of this.”

She chuckles and says, “I know you’re not, honey. You were staring at that boy for a good 30 minutes-”

“Fuck off,” I mutter.

“-But no matter how gay you are, that doesn’t change the fact that you know nothing about the typical female anatomy. Your earring is really hurting me right now and I’d appreciate it if you’d move to my lap or something.”

“Oh shit.” I lift my head up and touch the little black squares I have as earrings. I forget I have those in sometimes. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” She smiles at me and pats her lap, and I do as she suggests. All I really want to do is wallow in my own sadness and frustration, but laying my head on its side, I suddenly have a perfect view of Eren. Just my fucking luck.

“I can see him like this though,” I whine. He’s still dancing around, using his dusters as maracas and singing along with a part of the song that sounds like some kind of Swahili chant. What a fucking dork.

“Is that really such a bad thing?” Hanji teases. I would’ve yelled at her for continuing to give me shit about this guy, but said guy decided to take that moment to make a real dork move. Eren hit a flower pot hanging from his roof with one of the dusters, causing it to fall off its hook, hitting him in the head on the way down. Both he and the pot fall to the ground, the pot shattering on impact.

I whip my head up off Hanji’s lap, like seeing Eren get hurt struck some kind of reflex, and say, “Holy shit, that looked like it hurt.”

Hanji grimaces and nods in agreement. “Um, he’s not getting up either...”

Sure enough, Eren’s splayed out like a rag doll on the ground, unmoving. The upbeat music playing in the background doesn’t match the tension at all and honestly makes the whole situation even creepier. Did the pot really hit him hard enough knock him unconscious?

“Holy shit, you’re right, he’s not moving,” I whisper. And after a few more seconds, he still isn’t moving. “He’s not moving, he’s not moving, he’s not moving,” I say repeatedly under my breath as I’m somewhat panicking, gripping the bottom of the swing with white knuckles. “Holy shit, he’s not fucking moving, Hanji!” I’m about to get up and run over there when, after possibly the longest 15 seconds of my life, the shithead finally sits up.

“Oh thank god,” I mutter, exhaling all the air I didn’t realize I was holding in until then. I relax back into the swing and end up resting my head on Hanji’s shoulder again. I was emotionally drained and exhausted. He’d scared me half to death. If something had happened to that little shit, I don’t know what I’d do.

“You know you want to talk to him,” Hanji whispers into my ear like some kind of omniscient ghost. “You obviously care about him.”

I don’t say anything. I don’t want to give her the satisfaction of being right.

“You know, you could go over and help him clean up that mess,” she suggests. “Chat him up, ask for his number. You have to have some charm somewhere deep down inside that turtle shell of yours.”

I wasn’t even listening fully. All I caught was “turtle shell”. “I’m not a fucking turtle,” I mumble, my voice distorted due to Hanji’s shoulder being jammed up my cheek. I honestly couldn’t care less. I didn’t have the energy to prop my head up even a centimeter.

“Or, you could tell him you’re having a casual little dinner party tonight and ask him to stop by. Erwin and I would definitely wanna help you out by being your guests. Or at least I would. I don’t know about Erwin. If it got down to that though, I could easily change his mind. We both think your constant grumpiness is a side effect of your loneliness, so...”

By that point I’m completely zoned out. It was like the beautiful day couldn’t even brighten my mood anymore. I’m slumped against Hanji, putting all my weight on her, not even wanting to put the effort into focusing my vision. All I can do is watch a blurred version of Eren slowly pick up pieces of the flower pot one by one. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him move so lethargically. He’s supposed to be energetic and klutzy and happy and passionate, the complete opposite of me. Now he could barely lift a piece of dried clay off the ground and put it in a trash bag. I shouldn’t be so worried about someone I haven’t even said a whole word to before... but what the hell is his problem exactly...?

Oh, fuck it. I’m worried. I’m admitting it, I’m worried. I blink a few times until my vision’s clear and focus on Eren. It’s hard to tell from across the street, but I’m pretty sure he’s frowning. His flower headband is smushed on the ground next to him. There’s also a bunch of red stuff coming out the side of his head. Wait…

_Holy fuck there’s a bunch of red stuff coming out of his head._

“Hanji, he’s bleeding,” I exclaim, interrupting her diagnosis of my depression and loneliness probably. But who gives a fuck about me when heaven’s little shithead himself is bleeding out?

“Were you even listening to me?” Hanji says, clear annoyance in her voice. I still was barely listening to her. I sit up completely straight and grip the bottom of the bench again, freaking the fuck out.

“Does he even realize he’s bleeding?!”

“Levi, what the hell are you talking about?” Hanji asks, reaching forward to put a hand on my shoulder.

“Look at his fucking head!” She does as I say and then immediately understands what the hell I’m talking about. There’s a huge spot of blood on his temple and it seems to be dripping down his jawline.

She pats my shoulder and says, “Honey, don’t worry about it. He’s probably okay. He’s probably just cleaning up the mess first before he worries about the cut. It must not be that bad.”

“Or what if it’s so bad that he can’t even feel it? Look how slow he’s moving! I’ve never seen him move that slow. What if he’s still partly unconscious? What if he got a concussion? What if a piece of the pot sliced into his brain?” I babble. Hanji stares at me like I’ve finally gone insane.

“I have never seen you have this much emotion,” she says, completely dumbfounded.

“What if a piece of dirt got into his ear when the pot fell and it’s messing around with his mind? What if he has permanent brain damage? What if the flowers have some kind of evil power that got transferred to him when the pot hit him in the head and now he’s being controlled by the flower overlord from the great, infernal abyss? He could be in serious fucking danger. He could be slowly going insane as we speak. He needs help, goddammit!”

Instead of being in shock, Hanji’s giggling and grinning like a madman by that point. “You’re right, he does need help after all! Run to him, Levi! Run!” She's being completely sarcastic, but of course I don't fucking notice it at the time.

I  _heroically_  hop up off the swing and bolt down my front steps, nearly tripping over a crack I thought I had memorized. By the time I realize I was in some kind of hysteria and that I’m doing something completely ridiculous, it’s too late. I’m standing in Eren’s front yard, right in front of him, and he’s gazing up at me from the ground with his fucking huge ass eyes. Said huge ass eyes are partially covered by long, caramel brown hair, but are still, without a doubt, the hugest ass eyes I've ever seen. His tanktop is loose and hanging off one shoulder a little. I didn't realize a collar bone could be pretty until that moment. His calves and feet are tucked neatly under his thighs, his toes wiggling in the grass. The cut on his temple looks even worse up close. There’s dirt and flower petals stuck in it and blood flows steadily out of it. For a split second I swear he’s grimacing and has a tear in his eye, but he quickly wipes it away and flashes a big, toothy grin at me.

“Hey, Levi!” he says cheerfully.

I forgot how much I love the way he says my name. I wanna hear him say it every single way possible. I wanna hear him say it when I wake up and the morning. I wanna hear him say it before I fall asleep at night. I wanna hear him say it when he’s yelling for me from across the street. I wanna hear him say it when we’re sitting on my little swing together, his legs draped across mine. I wanna hear him say it when we’re in my bedroom and I’m fucking him slowly, all night long…

_Oh my fucking god, I can’t do this._

“I’m sorry about all the noise, if it’s bothering you,” Eren says, twirling a piece of the pot around in his slender fingers. Why the hell is he apologizing for anything? He’s the one bleeding out of his brain. I open my mouth to tell him that, but the words get jumbled up and refuse to come out. He’s staring at me with those eyes like the ocean and his pretty, pink lips are formed into something like a pout and his smooth, silky hair is blowing in the wind and I can’t handle it. I cannot fucking handle it. I can’t handle it, I can’t handle him, I can’t handle any of this shit. My heart feels like it’s lodged in my throat and there’s fireworks in my stomach. Fuck Eren. Fuck him. I should just run back and hide in my house before his stupid good looks and stupid adorable personality kill me on the spot.

I must sit there in silence for too long because Eren begins to frown, which reminds me why I came over here in the first place. I didn't do this purely for my own selfish reasons. Eren's injured. I have to say something, anything. 

“I... um, yo- u-uh-” I clear my throat and look down at the ground. I can’t even form one simple word. Fan-fucking-tastic. Great start. I can definitely speak above a two year old level, Eren, I promise. After a few more seconds of stuttering and hating myself, I manage to spit out, “Are you okay?” which isn’t even what I wanted to fucking say. Wonderful. Awesome.

“Yeah, I’m great!” he exclaims, tilting his head to the side and running a hand through his hair. Fuck him. “Are  _you_  okay?” he asks with a chuckle. Seriously, fuck him. Just that little chuckle could end wars and cure cancer. This brat is a million light years out of my league. Why the fuck did I think I could actually help him without fucking something up?

“You, u-um, you’re-” I give up on trying to talk with a sandpaper tongue and just point at my temple, trying to signal to him what I can't spit out of my goddamn mouth. Unfortunately, Eren doesn’t get it. At all. He just laughs again, lighting more fuses in my stomach.

“I hope that means you’re good," he says uncertainty. He copies my motion with a smile, but because the universe hates me, he does it on the opposite side of his head from the one he's bleeding out of, so he doesn't realize a thing. Why can't I just speak like a normal human being in front of this brat? Why?

"N-No!" I manage to say, even sort of firmly surprisingly. I think I must lean forward and over him because he cowers downward, away from me. Great, I'm making him fear me. Amazing first impression, Levi.

"Oh! You're not good...?" he questions, his expression a mix between fear and worry. "What's wrong?" 

 _What's wrong? What's wrong?! You're slowly killing me with your beautiful existence alone. That's what's wrong!_ iswhat I want to say, but all I can manage is "N-No no. I-It's your head... It's-" I grimace in disgust as my eyes flicker over to the wound again. It's like it's getting worse by the second. Eren stares at me in disbelief.

"Oh, my head is what's wrong?" he says. The light and flowery voice from before is suddenly gone and he looks at me like I've just insulted him. "Dude, just because I like to dance and wear what makes me happy doesn't mean my head is wrong. And to answer your first question properly, now that I think I know what you're getting at, I'm perfectly okay the way I am, thank you very much. If you came over here just to criticize me, then you can kindly fuck off." 

By that point, my heart is probably all the way up by my tonsils. If I'm attracted to him when he's yelling at me, telling me to fuck off even, then I'm in deep shit. This is so bad. He's so passionate when he thinks I'm insulting his lifestyle choices. It's like he's on fire and he's burning me to bone. It's such a drastic change from earlier when he was carelessly dancing around in his front yard. I'm intrigued by every side to him. I'm a pining coward. Damn him.

"How could I have misread you so much?" he mumbles under his breath, tracing his finger around in the spilled soil on the ground with a frown. That certainly snaps me out of my 'nervous school girl with a crush' state of mind. I want to tell him how wrong he is, that I'm not trying to criticize him at all and that I think his dancing and his clothes are beautiful. But, even in the direst circumstances, I can't talk to most of the people in this world in a way that's socially acceptable. I'm rude, tend to say fuck a lot, appreciate toilet humor, and can never properly express my feelings. This charming and angelic shithead will never like me, and really shouldn't. He could do much better. I still have to find a way to stop the blood from oozing out of his brain though. How has he still not realized?

"Jesus christ, you idiot," I mutter. Realizing by now that words will fail me, I grab his wrist and place his hand on the cut. It's not a very good choice for my emotional state, since his wrist feels thin and fragile and his skin has the most comfortable warmth I've ever felt on a person. I want to touch him more. I can't bring myself to let go. 

When my hand meets his wrist, I notice a small indent in his cheek where he starts biting it. Then when his hand meets the blood clumping on his torn skin, it's like the life leaves his eyes. 

I pull his hand away and move it in front of his face, so he can clearly see what I'm trying to tell him. There's blood covering the tips of his fingers. I don't think it could get any more obvious than that.

"Oh. So, that's what you meant..." Eren whispers. His face is suddenly very pale and I can tell right away that he does not like blood. He almost looks like he's going to pass out again. "Is it really bad?"

"...Yeah." I can't lie to the kid. 

"Oh fuck." He starts to stand up and I manage to release my grip from his wrist. The moment he's on both feet, he loses his balance and stumbles. I almost instinctively put my arms out like I'm ready to catch him, but he ends up catching himself, putting his hands on his head right after. He looks like he could fucking pass out and die any second. "Now that you've mentioned it, that side of my head really fucking hurts." 

He starts fumbling around in his pockets, his eyes darting everywhere, from the ground to his house to the garage to my house. Then he starts mumbling on about calling 911 and getting to a hospital. I'm about to make an attempt at telling him that it's probably not  _that_ bad, but he realizes something before I get a chance. "Oh god-fucking-dammit, my phones dead inside." He paces around his yard a few times before going to his front window and looking at his reflection. When he turns around, he looks like he's just seen a ghost. He rushes over to me, standing near the front of his yard by the sidewalk like a useless asshole, muttering "shit" under his breath over and over again.

"Shit, Levi-" He stops when he's uncomfortably close to me - so close that I can make out faint, little freckles dotting his cheeks and nose that I'd never noticed before. And I thought this shithead couldn't get any cuter. I was fucking wrong. He looks at me like I'm some kind of savior in his dark world of head injuries and when I try to gulp down my feelings, I swear to the fucking universe this brat's smile turns into a fucking smirk for a split second. "You seem like you have a professional opinion, Levi. Should I bother going to the hospital?" he says in this deep, sultry voice and either I'm going insane or he's delirious from the pain because I swear it's like he's  _trying_  to seduce me by this point and it's working so well. One second he's a real life flower child, the next he's angry and burning with passion, and now he's somehow sexy, all while bleeding out and barely noticing it. I realize in that moment that my neighbor from across the street must be some kind of superhuman and will definitely be the end of me.

"I don't think you wanna pay hospital bills in this country for something as fucking stupid as this." I say most charmingly. 

"Ha! Yeah, you're right! I'm completely broke! 'Murica!" Eren lets out a loud and bubbly laugh, almost like a drunk person's. Then, exactly like a drunk person, he starts to stumble and tip over, but he doesn't catch himself this time. I catch him.

Suddenly the entire weight of a person a whole foot taller than me is leaning against my side. I somehow manage not to drop his seemingly lifeless body, but there's no way in hell I can move him anywhere. Fuck this kid. How am I supposed to save him and have him be eternally grateful and possibly want to talk to me in the future if I can't even move him? I just stand there helplessly for a few seconds, kind of enjoying the feeling of having a passed out Eren half- on top of me in the back of my mind, until the familiar sound of obnoxious cackling fills my ears. I look across the street at  _my_  house and see Hanji is still there, rocking back and forth on  _my_ porch swing, cackling like witch. And is that popcorn in her lap? When the hell did she get that? 

" _Four Eyes!_ " I shout at her, my voice sounding menacing and acidic. "Don't just sit there on your lazy ass, help me!" 

She reluctantly gets up and makes her way across the street, laughing the entire time. She starts laughing even harder when she gets close enough to see my face. 

"Are you laughing at me?" I hiss. She stands on the other side of Eren and puts an arm under one shoulder while I put one under the other. 

"No, honey. I'm laughing next to you," she says, peeking around Eren's head and winking at me. I roll my eyes. She comments on how I was blushing again. I just roll my eyes again. 

"Just help me drag him into his house," I mutter. 

"His house?! We're going to your house!"

"Why the fuck would we drag him all the way over there? He's fucking unconscious! We need to get him to the hospital somehow."

"But he said he's broke."

"Can't broke people still go to the- Wait, how the hell did you hear that? Were you eavesdropping?"

"He talks really loudly, munchkin. It wasn't that hard." 

"Goddammit, Hanji. Whatever. We need to fucking go. Call 911! Do something! He's probably fucking dying!" I take a step in the direction of Eren's house, but Shitty Glasses doesn't move with me. I glare back at her. All she does is grin.

"Levi, calm down, hun," she says as if she's talking to a toddler. "I know you probably don't care in the slightest, but I almost have my PhD. I know what I'm talking about. He's not dying. He really hasn't lost that much blood. He was probably just overwhelmed. With breaking the pot and the cut and talking to you and all, he probably just freaked himself out and fainted. He's fine, I promise." 

With a sigh and a displeased grumbling sound, I turn and start moving towards my house, and this time Hanji follows. Soon we're dragging a limp 20-something year old boy's body across the street like it's completely normal. 

"So I take it you plan on fixing him, Dr. Dickhead?" I ask Hanji.

She snorts and laughs and says, "Oh no, I definitely think you should do it." 

I look around Eren's head that's practically waving in the breeze and stare at her in disbelief. "Are you high?" 

"No!" she says, laughing again. "I realize that you're extremely attached to him like your life depends on it and that you want him in the highest quality of care, but it's not that bad of a cut. You took that first aid class a few years back. I think you're capable of taking care of him. Plus, it'd give you another opportunity to talk to him!" She wiggles her eyebrows at me and smirks. I sigh and glance up at Eren's pretty, unconscious face. I hate to admit it, but Hanji's right. She's always fucking right.

"Fine, we'll do everything your way." I sigh. She squeals, literally  _squeals_ , and bounces up and down like a little girl. I scold her for shaking Eren in the process and she gives me that knowing grin of hers, the same one she gives me when I'm blushing. Why does she have to know everything? 

***

Pretty soon we were sliding Eren into my kitchen and laying him down on the island in the middle of it. I was not putting him in the living room, like Hanji suggested, that's for sure. He'd get blood and dirt and drool and god knows what else on all my furniture. Hell no. I go into the pantry to grab a sleeve of saltine crackers, then the refrigerator to grab a juice box (yes, a full grown man is allowed to drink juice boxes), and set them both on the counter next to the unconscious boy for when he wakes up. I turn towards the entrance to the kitchen to ask Hanji if she could help me find my first aid supplies, but she seems to have disappeared. Shocker. Her whole plan was to get me alone with Eren, after all. I suppose it worked. 

I glance over at the man passed out on my kitchen counter and find myself worrying about whether he's in pain or not. He looks at peace, with his legs dangling off the edge of the counter and his head tilted to the side, mouth wide open with drool dripping out of it. I grimace at the sight of it. Disgusting. At least it doesn't seem like he's hurting, despite the blood still coming out of his head. It's even making a red splotch on his shirt now. I have no clue how Hanji thinks he's barely lost any blood, but I guess I trust her. She is a genius, no matter how insane she really is. 

I go and rummage around in the storage room for what feels like an eternity until I finally find my first aid kit. When I return, Eren's sitting up on the counter, completely conscious, sucking up the last bit of juice out of the juice box so that it's making that horrible bubbling and slurping sound. He glances over at me as I walk into the kitchen with wide eyes and his lips wrapped tightly around the straw. The look messes with my insides. There's a popping sound as he detaches his lips and gives me his signature toothy grin.

"Oh! Hey, Levi!" he exclaims, letting go of the juice box and holding the straw in between his teeth so he can give me a little wave. His other hand is supporting him as he leans back slightly. So, he wakes up in a strange house, blood still cascading down his head, and all he has to say is  _Oh! Hey, Levi!_ , like this is a completely normal situation? This shithead is something else. I don't understand him. 

"Hello," I say as I go up to him and set the medical supplies down on the counter. A breeze blows in from the window and the chimes I have hanging above the sink start their song. The dishwasher makes a steady hum and the clock in the living room ticks to a beat. I'm suddenly really aware of how alone we are. I feel like Eren can hear every sound my body makes, every breath and every heartbeat and every swallow. It's like the walls are closing in around us. I want to step back and run away and hide in my room, but I know I can't. I have a job to do. I won't be able to live with myself if I don't clean up Eren's cut to my standards. And Hanji won't let me live with myself if I don't at least try to talk to him. If she's such a medical school know-it-all genius, why doesn't she see that a sparkling, radiant kid like Eren shouldn't wanna have anything to do with a dull, dispirited old man like me? I'm in my 30s, I haven't dated anyone in years, and I'm not married, so I'm basically fucked in that area. Hanji, and I, if I'm being honest with myself, need to face reality. Nothing is ever going to happen with Eren and I'm gonna have to get the fuck over it.

"You know, I thought I was in Hanji's house at first," Eren starts, nibbling on the straw in his mouth and looking around the room. "It smells so clean and disinfected in here, and she's a doctor, isn't she? So, it would make sense..." I'm silently amused. Hanji is the biggest fucking slob I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. It's hilarious that Eren thinks she would actually keep her house clean. "...I thought she would be the one fixing whatever happened to my head for sure. But then I saw that picture." He points to a Polaroid I have hanging up on my fridge. Hanji took it at the birthday party she threw me against my will in December. It's a picture of me flipping the camera off while holding my fat, grumpy cat, Simon, with  _Happy 30th Munchkin!!!!!!_ - _Hanji_  written below it in thick, black sharpie. 

"Mhm," I grunt, pretending to not be interested in what he's saying. I grab a washcloth out of a drawer behind me and go over to the sink to run some water over it.

"Then I knew I was in your house, but I have no idea why." He genuinely sounds confused. "I know Hanji's home today, wouldn't it make more sense for a doctor to clean me up? Or- wait, are you a doctor, too?! I thought you were the manager or whatever of that one company."

I would correct him, since I'm actually the owner of that one company, but it's not really important. "No, I'm not a doctor," I say with mock annoyance. If I keep pretend to be annoyed with him, maybe one day I actually will be. "You're gonna have to settle for me though. I know how to bandage up a simple cut, at least."

"No, no, no! I'm sorry! I didn't mean it like that!" he yells frantically. "I just meant that if Hanji was home, she would be the one to want to do this kind of thing. I just don't want to inconvenience you more than I already have! You already had to walk across the street and deal with my stupidity. And then I yelled at you! I'm so sorry about that by the way, Levi..." He keeps babbling on about how sorry he is and I have to pretend that it's not adorable at all. I return to him with the damp washcloth and reach forward to press it against the cut on his temple. He immediately stops talking and lets out this sexual-sounding sigh. I can't believe this asshole. I pretend to not be completely turned-on.

"Ahhh, it's warm," he hums, leaning his head into my hand slightly. I gulp and start to hesitantly dab at any place with blood while trying to control my breathing. This can't actually be happening. This can't be reality. "Are you really 30?" Eren asks. His voice is calm, low, and quiet and it kills me a little.

I nod, but then I remember his eyes are closed, so I say, "Yes."

He cracks open one of his eyes and looks at me suspiciously. "I don't believe it. You don't look a day over 22."

"Well, I'm a lot of days over 22."

"Did you drink from the Fountain of Youth or something?" He smirks at me and I don't bother hiding my amusement when I look back at him. He beams and says, "See, now you don't look a day over 18. That glare you normally give me really ages you."

I roll my eyes and finish up with the washcloth before he can continue on about my age. I move on to grabbing the tweezers to get the extra dirt and petals and shit out of the cut. I warn him to tell me if it hurts and he says, "Well, someone will just have to kiss it better if that happens," and I nearly drop everything I'm holding. As I'm slowly and delicately picking out each little speck of debris, I can feel his eyes on me. I know he's watching my every move and it's agonizing. He's probably just making sure I'm doing it to his liking, but I can't help but make up possible thoughts he could be having. Thinking of Eren sitting there  _admiring me_ makes the whole situation even more unbearable.

Out of nowhere, he makes a little noise. I quickly pull the tweezers out and back away a bit, assuming that I accidentally hurt him.

"Shit, sorry," I mutter. He doesn't say anything, so I glance over and make eye contact with him. 

He's just sitting there staring at me with a hint of a smile, a sliver of his lips stained purple from the grape juice and his ocean eyes sparkling. I'm suddenly overwhelmed with how goddamn fucking gorgeous he is and I hate it. I hate him. I hate Eren.

"What?" I stammer. "What is it?"

Grinning softly, he says, "You have really pretty eyes."

I frown at him and I know I'm blushing, I just know it, yet I can't do anything about it. What a fucking adorable idiot. He needs to be more careful with his words or else I might fall in love with him. I doubt he'd want that. "No, I don't."

"Yeah, you do!" he declares. "They're like..." He stares into my eyes like he's staring into my soul for way too fucking long. I can't even take the opportunity to study the dazzling little oceans he calls eyes because I'm too worried about how mine look to him. Probably like depressing rain clouds. Or boring, dull metal. "They're a really pretty gray," he finally decides on after fucking forever. He has got to be kidding.

"And in what world is gray a pretty color?" 

"My world."

I stare in complete disbelief and say, "You're so full of shit." Any normal person would be offended by that shitty remark and probably drop the topic, but no, not Eren. Eren's just not a normal person.

"Am not," he argues. "I like gray. And I really like your eyes."

"Whatever," I mumble under my breath and go back to treating his wound.

"You know, you could just take the compliment."

I don't respond. I don't feel like I _can_ take a compliment from Eren on physical appearances. He's better looking than me in every single way. There's no reason for him to be complimenting me. 

There's a few moments of tense silence and then Eren says, "Alright then, Mr. I Can't Take A Compliment, what's your favorite color?"

I pause in my work for a second and give him an  _are you serious?_ look before answering with, "I guess teal." He doesn't say anything until I look at his face again and I have no idea why at first. I'm met with only a shit-eating grin Hanji would be proud of. 

"Teal, hmm?" he questions with suspicion.

"Yes, teal. Blue-ish, green-ish... teal," I say uncertainly. What the fuck is his problem with teal? He licks his lips and then gives me a wide, closed-mouth smile that makes my heart stutter. He widens his blue-ish, green-ish eyes and raises his eyebrows at me.

And then I realize why he seems so fucking pleased. 

"That's really cheesy, Levi, but I'm flattered anyways-"

"No! No." I wave the bottle of antibiotic ointment I'm holding at him chidingly. Because ointment is _very_ threatening."That's not what I meant! I-"

"It's alright, Levi! Unlike you, I can actually accept a compliment."

"It wasn't a fucking compliment!"

"I think it's great that we favoritize each other's eyes-"

"That's not even a word-"

"-but I'm still curious about what your favorite color is."

"Teal actually is my favorite color, you dipshit!" I hiss.

Eren's striking teal eyes bore into mine and his face is completely expressionless, like he's condemning me in his mind. Goddammit, I might have gone too far with that. I can call Erwin and Hanji dipshits and they'll know I'm kidding most of the time. The times when I'm not kidding, they'll know I still like them, despite their dipshitty-ness. Eren, on the other hand, might not realize that I don't actually mean it.  I frown at him and try my very best to look sorry, like that'll fix something. I might as well add another tally to the  _times when Levi's accidentally insulted people and ruined his relationship with them_ counter. Fuck my stereotypical depressed and lonely old man life. _  
_

"Well, if it's actually your favorite color..." Eren finally says centuries later. He grants me a little rosy-cheeked smile and states, "Then this dipshit must be meant for you."

I nearly squeeze ointment all over his pretty little outfit and drop the greasy, disgusting Q-tip I'm using down his pretty little face, but I manage to compose myself just enough to control my basic motor functions. I can't control myself enough to stop the blushing or the staring like I'm his fucking fanboy or something. And there sure is a lot of staring going on more than anything because goddammit I am fucking gaping at this asshole. I can't believe him. He's such a fucking flirt, and a cheesy and obvious flirt at that...

Wait.

He _is_ a flirt.

And he's flirting with _me_.

Eren is  _flirting_ with  _me_. 

_Eren is fucking flirting with me._

It's obvious and cheesy and he's  _fucking_   _flirting  with me. _

"D-Do you wanna come over tonight?" I blurt out like a bumbling idiot. Fuck, what am I doing? Eren looks at me funny and I probably look at him like I've just shit my pants. "Shit. Fuck, I mean, um, goddammit-" He's giggling now and I have no hopes of thinking or speaking clearly. I vaguely remember Hanji suggesting dinner, so I just roll with it. "Hanji and Erwin are coming over for dinner tonight. So are you."

"Oh, am I now?" he says, still laughing slightly. 

"Yes, I mean, if you want. You're invited."

He grins at me shiteatingly and answers, "I don't wanna crash your guys' _crazy_ party or anything, though."

I spread my arms out and gesture to my house, my clothes, and myself in general, ointment in one hand and a Disney princesses Band-Aid in the other. (I have no idea how the royal, hot pink box of abominations got into my first aid kit, but I wasn't complaining. Eren would probably look adorable with one on.) "Do I look like the kind of person to have a crazy party?"

He looks me over a few times and then suddenly snorts, hiding his mouth with one of his hands. "I dunno, those earrings you got there are pretty wild and rebellious," he teases. I roll my eyes and start getting the Band-Aid out of its wrapper. I put it over the cut, patting it a few times, and then lightly smacking him in the side of the head for good measure. That's what the asshole gets for making fun of me. And for pulling off a princess Band-Aid really well. He tilts his head away from me and lets out a bubbly laugh that must be the work of a god. Or maybe a fairy. Or possibly satan. "I can't believe I never noticed those bad boys until now. How long ago did you get those?"

I huff and slowly begin cleaning everything up. "Doesn't matter. I was planning on taking them out soon anyway. I'm getting too old for them."

"What? No, you're not, dude. If you're still that dark, little, rebellious teenager inside, then live it up. Age is just a number."

I am, and always will be, a dark, little, rebellious teenager deep, down inside. Not that I would ever admit that to him that he's right, though. I just loudly blow air out my nose in response.

"I was just kidding, anyways," Eren continues. "I actually like them a lot. You should keep them. It makes you look like a punk kind of. I like punks. They're nice. I want to marry a punk."

Alright, I change my mind. I am never ever taking the earrings out. Ever. I debate telling him that, but strongly decide against being creepy. "Whatever," is all I end up saying.

There's a minute or two of silence while I'm traipsing around the house putting all the supplies and wrappers and empty juice boxes in their places. I feel like I'm in one of my unusually pleasant dreams, just floating around from room to room on a head trip. There was no fucking way any of that actually just happened. I did not just touch Eren's head. I was not just alone in a room with Eren. Eren did not just say my eyes were pretty or that he liked my earrings or that  _he was meant for me_. No way in hell those words came out of his mouth. I had to be delusional. I tell myself that I'm going to go back into my kitchen and Eren is going to politely thank me and say goodbye like a normal neighbor. 

I head back to the kitchen after making one last stop in the storage room to put away the first aid kit.  _Nothing is ever going to happen with Eren, you insanely disturbing dumbass_ , I tell myself one last time before rounding the corner.

"Alright, I think I'm d-"

I'm suddenly cut off and completely engulfed by a person a whole head taller than me. Eren had jumped off the counter and ran over to me, wrapping his arms around me and shoving my face into his chest. My limbs seem to shut down from pure shock and I just stand there limply while the object of most of my daydreams hugs the life out of me. I normally hate other humans touching me without my approval, but I quickly decide that Eren can touch me however the hell he wants - no clearance needed. His skin is so warm compared to mine and a few moments after practically absorbing me into his chest, I can _feel_ him laugh. It's like I instantly fall in love with being close to him. I want to be pressed up against him every time he laughs so I can feel it vibrate though him like no one else can. 

"Jeez, you're so tiny and cold, Levi! I'm afraid to let go of you," Eren says nonchalantly with a chuckle.

 _Then don't_ , I think.

"Anyways, I'm sorry for all the trouble. Thank you tons." He gives me a squeeze that takes what little breath I had left in me and then lets me go. He moves his hands to grip my shoulders instead and smiles at me. "I'll see you tonight at your crazy party, right?"

I only have the time to stutter a few times before he slides around me and out of the kitchen. I hear my front door squeak open and slam shut a few seconds later. I just stand there, frozen in the middle of my own kitchen. Everything seems eerily empty and silent now that he's gone. I'm only left with the sound of the breeze blowing in from the window and the chimes hanging above the sink and the dishwasher on rinse cycle and the clock in the living room ticking to a beat. I turn on the record player in the living room before I start going crazy.

I decide to go clean the kitchen more thoroughly, but all I can think about when I'm wiping down the counters is how Eren was actually sitting on one of them.

I try rearranging the fridge and the pantry but all I can think about is how Eren actually ate those crackers and drank one of those juice boxes.

I give up and grab a recipe book out of a cupboard to try and get some kind of dinner idea. I throw myself down on the couch in the living room and flip through the pages, but all I can think about is how Eren is actually going to be eating whatever I decide to make.

I slam the book closed and irritably grab my phone out of my back pocket, thinking that maybe some mind-numbing social media will take my mind off that fucking asshole. I don't get that far though since Hanji decides to text me the moment I type in my password. ' _DID YOU TAP THAT ASS YET OR WHAT?????_ ' pops up right in the middle of the fucking screen. Then a second message - ' _I_ _SAW HIM LEAVE YOUR HOUSE. HE WAS THERE FOR A LONG TIME_ ' with a bunch of stupid-ass smirking emojis - replaces it. I hit reply and type out an angry message about how stalking is creepy and how I should file a restraining order. A few moments after I send it, I receive a blurry, zoomed-in picture of me laying on my couch, taken from what seems like Hanji's bathroom window. I get up and walk over to a window and sure enough, I can see shitty glasses herself peeking out her little bathroom window. She smiles and waves at me and a flip her off. She looks down for a second and then, all of a sudden, my phone starts buzzing in my hand. A picture Hanji took of herself when she stole my phone one time fills up the screen and I groan.

I grudgingly answer her call and yell, "What? What the fuck do you want?" into the receiver. 

I can see her giggle as she replies, "I want to know if you tapped that ass or not. I thought I made that pretty clear."

I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose, realizing that I have to tell her. I told Eren that her and Erwin are coming tonight, too. She has to know that I actually used her shitty idea. "No. I have three shitheads coming over for dinner tonight, though," I mutter reluctantly. I glare at her through the window as the realization slowly washes over her. And then she's grinning at me, squealing, and jumping up and down like a fucking frog. "For the love of god, Hanji, please don't do anything stupid."

"I wouldn't even think of it, munchkin!" she says, shaking her head rapidly. "I'm so so so proud of you! I knew you had it in you, babycakes! Erwin and I are gonna be the best wingmen this world has ever seen, just you wait!"

"Noooo, Hanji," I moan, holding my head in my free hand. "I don't want a fucking wingman. I told him you two were gonna be here, so just show up at 6:30. That's all I'm asking."

"Will do, Captain!" She salutes me and then continues blabbering on. "I'm gonna show up early though so you can tell me what happened. I want all the juicy details! He's gonna be so good for you. You guys are gonna be goddamn cute, I just know it! I can't wait 'till you two-"

It occurs to me that I'll probably feel bad about it later, but I don't really give a shit. I can't deal with her perkiness right now. I hang up on Hanji and give her a little flick-of-the-wrist wave before shutting the blinds and collapsing on the couch again.

I feel like screaming. I also feel like throwing up, as well as breaking something.

I hurl one of the throw pillows at the wall, curl up into the fetal position, grab another nearby pillow, and scream into it. I can't take this. I don't know what this brat is doing to me. 

I try to convince myself once again that I hate Eren, but I can't; I like every little thing about him. For a second I accept that there's actually something happening with Eren, but then I wrap my arms around my legs a little tighter and tell myself that someone like him couldn't possibly give a shit about someone like me. Then I dig my fingernails into my thighs a little deeper and say, "That's a lie." He obviously gives a shit about me. I just don't want to believe it. It's like reality and what I've always convinced myself reality is are fighting a war in my mind.

I realize that he's driving me insane. I realize that a small part of me is just trying to keep myself from being wrong and getting hurt. But I also realize that Eren is really and truly coming over later and that I'm being a fucking dumbass.

And knowing all of that leaves me confused, terrified, and a little bit excited.

I realize there's something about this dork that's actually making me look forward to a dinner party.

 


	2. The Way You Make Me Feel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dinner party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ladies and gentlemen, after almost a year... *chorus of airhorns* I'M BACK MOTHERFUCKERS. i wrote 6k more words of this stupid ass story. i hope it's a decent continuation. 
> 
> if you're a returning reader and don't remember what happened in the first chapter, here's a little summary:  
> Eren lives across from Levi, and Hanji and Erwin live next door to him on each side. Hanji and Levi witness a flower pot fall on Eren's head while he's dancing around in his front yard to Michael Jackson songs. Hanji has Levi play doctor. Eren is super flirty with Levi while he's fixing him up, and it takes the tiny idiot fucking f o r e v e r to realize it, but when he does, he immediately invites Eren to a last minute dinner party with Erwin and Hanji.  
> and that's where we left off.

Hanji prances through my front door an entire half hour early, as she promised, dragging the one and only Commander Eyebrows in behind her.

“We’re here!” I hear her screech as she stomps across the creaky living room floorboards and towards the kitchen.

I take a step away from the stove where I’m stirring a pot of sauce and brace for impact. I don’t even get the chance to turn around before Hanji attacks me with a hug that’s more like a strangle, if I’m being honest. I swear she has me in a fucking choke hold for a second. I try my hardest to wriggle out of her grasp but, as I’ve said, Hanji is a goddamn force to be reckoned with. She just keeps squeezing and twisting and turning until she eventually just plucks me right up off the ground and starts waving me around.

“Hello, my little gay prince!” she coos, singing “hello” over and over again afterwards. I try to roll my eyes and sigh, but I realize that I can’t breathe. She has me in such a strong death grip that I literally cannot fucking breathe. I have to resort to kicking her with both feet repeatedly like a spoiled two year old until she finally puts me back down on the ground. I let out a gigantic sigh, big enough to make up for the ones I missed when my lungs were being crushed, and scowl up at Hanji. She just smiles at me innocently. And with the flowery, little sundress she changed into after yardworking and the way she tilts her head and scratches the back of her neck, I actually believe she _is_ innocent for a second. Only for a second though. This is Hanji, after all.

She holds up a six pack of what looks like some kind of shitty, fruity beer and says, “I brought you some beer! Maybe it’ll help get that stick out of your ass.” I roll my eyes and grab the bottles from her, inspecting them. They actually are shitty, fruity beer – raspberry bursts, green apple bites, screwdrivers.

"These look kinda shitty," I say.

"E-Erwin bought it! It was his idea!" Hanji blurts out, pointing a finger into the living room. "I wanted to get you vodka, but he just _insisted._ ”

"That's a lie." Erwin saunters into the room, wearing a t-shirt that's way too fucking tight a smile that's way too fucking bright. "It's the complete opposite actually."

I sigh and say, "Whatever, I don't really care. Thanks." I take one the bottles out of the package and twist it around aimlessly in my hands. "Couldn't you have worn something a little more... unflattering?" I direct at Erwin.

He lets out his dumb roaring laugh and looks at me like I'm a child - like a child that's just said something really stupid, but is so helpless that you can't help but laugh and say, _Oh, you poor thing_. "Levi, Levi, Levi. He's not just going to bail and run for me because of the clothes I'm wearing. From what Hanji has told me-"

He's abruptly cut off by Hanji elbowing him in the side. I glare up at both of them.

“What?” I hiss. “What did Hanji tell you, hmm?”

They glance at each other nervously and Erwin says, “Oh, nothing. Nothing important.”

I turn my glaring power up to the max and set the beer bottle on the counter, like I’m ready to fight them over this. How dare they keep things from me. “No. What the hell have you two said about Eren that’s such a fucking secret?”

“Wow, would you look at that!” Hanji completely ignores my overpowered glaring and comes over to stand next to me at the stove. I swivel my body around to see her gaping at the pot of sauce I was in the middle of stirring before they so rudely interrupted. “Please tell me my nose isn’t deceiving me. You better be making your fancy pasta sauce,” she says excitedly. She sticks her probably dirty, disgusting finger into the pot and licks the sauce off of it absolutely disgustingly. I’ll just have to pretend she never did that in order to keep the little sanity that I have left. “Oh, this is definitely your special fancy pasta sauce,” she hums.

I move my gaze over to Erwin, thinking that maybe he’ll crack under my OP glaring capabilities. Unfortunately, all he does after a few moments is smile at me and shrug. I huff and lean my back against the counter in defeat. I don’t want to waste all my energy on uncovering their little secret right now. I’ll find it out eventually. For now, I focus back on Hanji.

“You mean the special fancy pasta sauce that you ate a whole fucking pot of the last time I made it?” I say to her. “Yeah, this is it.” She grins at me, her eyes practically glowing behind her thick-rimmed glasses, and starts to stick another finger into the pot. I slap her hand away before she can destroy the sauce any more. “You’re not eating it all before it’s even done!”

“Oh, come on! I just wanted a little taste.”

“You can have a little taste when it’s _done_.” I lightly shove her out of the way, grab the spoon off the counter, and go back to stirring.

As I rush around trying to cook dinner for four people (which is completely exhausting and I don’t ever want to do it again), Hanji and Erwin lean against counters and interrogate me about my time with Eren.

Eren. That shithead, Eren. No matter how many times his beautiful, vibrant eyes or his grape juice-stained lips – the ones that curl up into big, shining smile so often – have ran through my thoughts since the early afternoon, I still tell myself that I hate him. And I will continue to tell myself that I hate him until he stops making me feel things. Sure, I’ve had interest in people in the past and I find strangers at the grocery store attractive, but no one has ever entered my mind and infected every single part of my brain with the thought of them. No one has ever flooded my entire body with warmth and that unfamiliar tingly feeling just by their touch. No one has ever made me question my rule of always wanting to live in this house alone... until Eren.  And I’ve only spent about 15 minutes with him. These kind of trivial things aren’t supposed to happen to me. It’s pissing me off.

I tell Hanji and Erwin a shortened version of this, which is basically, “He’s making me feel things and I don’t get it and I don’t like it,” and Hanji tells me it’s this thing called a _crush_ , like I haven’t heard of it before. Of course I fucking know what a _crush_ is. They’re just so childish and stupid that I refuse to believe that I have one. They’re almost as idiotic as _love at first sight_ , which I also refuse to believe in. Sure, when I first saw Eren carrying boxes out of a moving truck several months ago it was like the clouds parted and the heavens opened up and the sun shined just for him, but it was not _love at first sight_. That’s ridiculous. That’s the stuff of fiction. No matter what Dumb and Dumber say, I do not love Eren.

After about thirty minutes, I’m just finishing up slicing a loaf of bread. Once I’m done, I set it on the little, square dining table in the corner of the kitchen with all the other completed food and breathe a sigh of relief. I plop down into one of the dining chairs next to Erwin and loosen the apron I’m wearing.

“I am so fucking done already,” I moan, grabbing a slice of bread and taking a bite out of it angrily. “Get me one of those shitty beers will you, Erwin?”

Erwin gets up from his chair and pats me on the head before going over to the fridge. “It all looks really great, though. Now you just get to relax,” he says encouragingly.

“How can I fucking relax when that asshole is gonna be here any-“

Suddenly the music playing in the living room dies out and I’m cut off by the sound of a record scratching. I immediately jump up out of my chair and stomp out into the next room.

“Goddammit, Hanji!” I shout. I stand over her where she’s squatting in front of the record player, trying to switch out the album I had playing for the Grease soundtrack. I grab the record out of her grimy paws and start to do it myself. “I’ve told you not to touch this. I fucking know I’ve told you not to touch this,” I grumble. For being a genius, she sure is a klutz. I don’t trust her for a second with my precious, vintage record player. I don’t trust anyone with it, really.

By the time _Grease_ is playing and all records are back in their cases, I feel like I’m going to explode from stress. I lay down on the floor and stare blankly up at the ceiling while Hanji’s voice apologizing and thanking me drones on in the background. Erwin enters the room and hands me the beer I asked for with a sympathetic smile. I sit up briefly just to grab the bottle and down half of it before collapsing again. The orange flavor is so strong it’s like I can smell it, yet surprisingly, it’s not that bad. Not that I would ever admit that to Hanji.

“When is Eren supposed to get here anyway?” Hanji asks as she dances around the living room. “The food’s gonna get cold.”

“The plan was supposed to be 6:30-“ I stop in the middle of my monotonous muttering and suddenly remember that I hadn’t actually told Eren when to come over. “Ah, shit.”

“What? Did you not give him a time?” Hanji says with a suspicious tone of voice. I glance up at her from the floor to see her grinning at me knowingly, which is never a good sign. Ever.

“No, I didn’t because I’m a fucking idiot,” I groan. “Can one of you go over there and grab him?”

“Hmm. Nah, I think you should,” Hanji says with a twirl. I sit straight up and stare at her with my lifeless eyes.

“No, Hanji, please. I can’t go over there again. I don’t think I could take it.”

“Well, I’m not going.” She dances over to Erwin and nudges him in the side. “How about you Erwie?” The two of them make brief eye contact before Erwin looks down at me and shakes his head.

“I’m with Hanji on this one. You invited him, you should go get him.”

For some reason, I feel like my life should start flashing before my eyes. I feel like I’m on the road to death. I slide over to them and wrap one arm around Erwin’s leg and the other arm around Hanji’s.

“Please. Please don’t make me. Please don’t make me try to talk to him by myself again,” I beg. “I’ll probably have a heart attack and drop dead on the spot. I promise I’ll stop calling you guys shitty and dipshits and little fuckers. Just please, fucking _please_ , don’t make me do this.”

“But you’re Levi Ackerman. _The_ Levi Ackerman, the human embodiment of _Started from the Bottom_. You started a Fortune 500 company under a bridge! You can do anything!” Hanji exclaims.

“No! No, I fucking can’t do anything!” I unwrap my arm from Hanji’s leg and point a trembling finger in the direction of Eren’s house. “Him! He’s something I can’t do!”

There’s a moment of silence between songs. During it, Erwin says, “So, you’re saying that you’re being brought to your knees by some 20-something year old kid?”

That strikes something in me - that little part of me that hates giving up. Or maybe it’s that big part of me hidden under all the frustration that _really_ likes Eren. Either way, I suddenly feel like I need to prove Erwin wrong. I get up off the floor, stand up straight, grab my beer, and head towards the front of the house. I hear the two idiots follow me, so I turn around. They’re both grinning at me wildly. I glare at them in return.

“Listen. If I’m being brought to my knees by him,” I announce, “it’s only so I can suck his dick.”

And then I walk out the front door right as _Summer Nights_ starts to play.

 

* * *

 

This has already happened to me today. When am I going to learn my lesson? I start walking over to Eren’s house, feeling empowered, and then the moment I’m actually on his property, I feel like I could shit my pants.

I try to pretend that none of this is actually happening as I creep up his driveway. I stumble up the steps that lead to his front door and I’m met by a piece of printer paper covered in black marker. It’s taped to the door frame and reads - _HEY! I'm the back! Would it be so hard so you to understand that I got work to do? You better go around back because I'M IN THE BACK! (no, but seriously, I'm not inside. I'm in the backyard. come find me!)_.

I stare at the messy handwriting for a while, trying to figure out what the fuck this idiot is referencing, but eventually just give up and go around back like the note says. I glide down the steps and follow the driveway all the way back to the garage behind his house. There’s light flooding out from the door on the side of the closed garage, so I figure that’s probably where I should check first. I leave the pavement briefly and walk through some grass that’s bright green and soft and tickles my toes before reaching the door. It’s cracked open a little and I nervously peek my head inside.

I’m immediately assaulted by green, veggie monsters - plants. Also, Michael Jackson is playing yet again, but _the plants._ There are plants fucking _everywhere_ . There are so many leaves in my face that I feel like I need a machete to venture in any further. Somehow, I manage to take a few steps inside, just using my one free hand to swat away the leafy attackers. It’s like they want my beer or something. _Well you can’t fucking have it, plants!_ I yell in my mind _. It’s my shitty beer. Mine._

By some miracle, I make it into a clearing where I stop and try to take in my surroundings. There’s an old, blue junker car taking up one half of the garage. It doesn’t look like it’s been used in a while though, since there’s potted plants scattered all over the roof and the hood. I think there’s even some inside the car. The other half of the garage is like a jungle. There’s multiple wooden tables and a shit ton of lamps, but there has to be at least a hundred plants covering nearly every surface. It’s like Eren wanted to fit as many plants in his garage as he possibly could while still leaving a pathway and some breathing room. What the hell is this kid’s deal with plants?

“Uh, hello?” I try to call out over the music. _Love Never Felt So Good_ is playing and I completely disagree with it’s message at the moment.

“Oh! Hey, Levi!” a voice of an angel calls out from the depths of the jungle garage. “I’m back here!”

I try to navigate through the greenery by following the sound of his voice, spilling some of my beer three times in the process. I guess the plants win this time. I’m telling them to have fun and party hard in my mind when I finally spot Eren. He’s standing in a corner, picking dead leaves off a plant with beautiful white flowers. He’d changed into a baggy t-shirt with floral patterns all over, but he’s still wearing no shoes, the flower headband, and the same life-ruining shorts as earlier. He has such pretty legs. How is it possible for a normal human being to have such pretty legs?

“Hey!” I look up and realize that he’d tilted his head around to look at me. We make eye contact and he turns his whole body around. “Why’re you just standing there?” he asks, curiosity written all over his face. How is it possible for a normal human being to have such a pretty face?

A leaf brushes against my arm and I immediately snap out of my trance, jumping away from it a little. “Fucking hell,” I mutter under my breath.

Eren laughs and says, “I see you’ve met my children.”

“Your _children?_ ” I clamor, still staring in terror at the plant that touched me.

“Yeah. You know how some people have pets as children? Well, I have plants.”

“Do these things have brains?!” I squeeze my arms against my sides in an attempt to get as far away from the plants on either side of me as I can. “Will they eat me?”

“No, silly!” He takes a few steps towards me and grabs a pot off one of the tables. It has little pink and white flowers growing out of the soil. He holds it out in front of me and pets the petals lovingly. “They’re just normal plants. They’re harmless.”

I hesitantly follow Eren’s lead and touch one of the flowers. They do seem like normal flowers, not vicious, man-eating plant monsters like I feared.

“I feel slightly stupid,” I mutter, taking a large swig of beer and crossing my arms in front of my chest. With the plant horror pretty much taken care of, I have more of my mind free to be nervous around Eren. Just what I needed.

“Nah, you’re not stupid,” he says with a smile, patting my head and setting the pink and white flowers back down on the table. “I think everyone that’s come in here’s gotten a little freaked out. I guess it just takes some getting used to.” He glances around the garage with a look of admiration before going back over to the corner he was in. I start moving my legs to follow him and I realize they feel like jell-o.

“So, um, dinner’s ready. I mean, if you wanted to join us,” I say pretty awkwardly.

Eren’s busy cleaning up the plant with the pretty white flowers again, so he doesn’t even look up when he jokingly answers, “Alright, _dad_. Let me finish this first.”

I gulp and quickly take a drink so it seems normal. How the hell does he mess me up so bad without even trying? I stumble around aimlessly while he finishes up whatever he’s finishing up, pretending to look at the plants. I’m really stealing glances at him though. Whenever I look, he’s always mouthing out the words to the song that’s playing and tapping his feet to the beat as he picks at the plant in front of him. He’s so fucking adorable. It makes me sick.

After a minute or two, I stand near him and ask, “Why the fuck do you keep so many plants in here?” In my head the question sounded a lot less harsh, but of course it didn’t come out that way. Why would it?

“’Cuz the plants need a home too!” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Isn’t the plants’ home sort of supposed to be... outside?”

He furrows his eyebrows and starts staring intensely at the plant he’s cleaning. “Well, yeah, it should be, but it’s not safe for them in so many places now, especially around here. The city just keeps expanding and they keep destroying so many animals’ and plants’ habitats.” He whips his head up to look at me and it’s like all the air is suddenly sucked out of my lungs. “Do you know how many acres of forest were chopped down last year in this area alone?”

I shake my head and make a sound that’s supposed to resemble the word “No”.

“400,000. They destroyed 400,000 acres of plants just to build more businesses and highways and useless shit like that. It’s fucking horrible. And don’t even get me started on other parts of the world. Have you heard of desertification?”

I vaguely register that he’s asking me a question, so I shake my head again. He seems to like that answer because he continues on with his passionate speech, which I’m not paying any attention to. How could I possibly concentrate on industrialization or desertification or whatever the fuck he’s talking about when he keeps pushing his hair out of his face, showing off his eyes, which are powerful and churning like the sea during a storm. I really wish I could listen to what he’s so motivated to talk about, but he’s so goddamn beautiful when he’s passionate that I have no hope of paying attention. I’m so fucked. I’m supposed to hate him. What ever happened to hating him?

“...And that’s why I save plants and grow them in here,” Eren finishes after a while. He seems to finish with the white flowers at the same time, since he grabs the pot gently in both hands, turns to face me, and grins. It looks like he waiting for me to say something.

I just nod and say, “Interesting,” because I have no fucking clue what else to say. God, why couldn’t I have just listened? I am an awful person. I have no right to hate him and he has every right to hate me.

“Were you even listening?” he asks.

I sigh in shame and take a long sip of my beer. There’s no way in hell I’m going to survive the rest of the day if I’m not a little buzzed. “I’m sorry, I was just... distracted,” I mutter. I glance up at him hesitantly and he smiles, seeming unsure about something.

“It’s fine. You look tired,” he answers.

“I guess. Apparently I always look tired though.”

“Who told you that?”

“Just some people from work.”

He looks at me worriedly for a moment, but quickly smiles again and taps the bottom of my bottle with one of his fingers.  “Drink some more of this. It’ll help.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” I mumble before raising the bottle to my mouth and tipping it all the way back, finishing it off. The more I drink it, the better it seems to tastes. I blink a few times and focus in on the flowers Eren’s holding. “Those are nice,” I admit, poking the pot.

He grins so wide I’m afraid he’s going to crack his face in half. “You really think so?” he beams. I nod and he extends the pot out towards me. “Do you want them?”

I shake my head vigorously. “No, no, that’s not what I was getting at-“

“I want you to have them though! I tried to make them as pretty as you, but I think that’s kinda impossible,” he says with a chuckle, like it’s no big deal. Like it’s no big deal that he’s going to make my cold, little heart explode. What is wrong with him? Why someone as breathtaking as Eren thinks anything about someone as old and grumpy as me is _pretty_ , I don’t understand. I don’t understand how any of this is happening.

“That was awful,” I mutter, unable to bring myself to look him in the eyes.

Eren laughs and says, “Well you’re blushing, so it couldn’t have been _that_ bad.”

I make a mix between a loud sigh and a groan and cross my arms in front of my chest, turning away from him. I’m getting sick and tired of my body not cooperating with me.

“Heyyy, Levi!” Eren grabs my shoulder and urges me to face him again. I reluctantly do as he wants, revealing my pathetically red cheeks to him again. He just smiles at me sweetly and nudges the pot against my chest. “I’m sorry. Please accept my blood, sweat, and tears as an apology,” he says.

I glance up at him and then snatch the plant. "Let's go," I mutter as I turn around and head down one of the pathways.

"Uh, Levi?" I pause and look behind me - back at Eren. He's leaning towards another path, his legs looking especially long and pretty. He hesitantly points down the path and says, "It's this way."

I sigh and follow him through the jungle and out the garage. I get a good view of his back as he bounces happily down the driveway, and I find myself frowning. All I'm doing is staring at his upper back as it moves with the sways of his arms and I can't help but think that a person should not be allowed to be so attractive. All because of his _back_ . _Just his fucking back._

Eren glances over his shoulder to make sure I'm still following him. He must notice my distress, since he looks at me worriedly and stops to wait for me to catch up to him.

We walk side by side across the street and up my driveway and over to my porch. I open the door for him and let him go in first, since he already knows where to go. The image of him entering my house - my home, the place I feel the most comfortable in - is a strange one. He looks almost as out of place as the golden giant in the tiny, narrow hallway and low-ceilinged rooms.

Side one of record two of the Grease soundtrack is humming along as I follow Eren through the living room and into the kitchen. Erwin’s sitting in his chair at the table, and I catch Hanji sliding the lid back onto the pot of sauce. That sneaky bastard. She grins at Eren, ruined tomato-y goodness at the edges of her lips, and stumbles over to grace him with one of her spine-crushing hugs.

“How are you, Eren, honey? Feeling better?” she asks.

I can tell Eren is struggling to get any air moving in or out of his lungs, but he manages to squeeze out, “Yes, ma’am.”

“You're going to kill him, Hanji,” Erwin interrupts oh-so valiantly. He stands up, and when Eren is finally released, shakes his hand and pats him on the back. “I heard what happened earlier. Scary stuff.”

Eren just shrugs. Why is he so cute when he shrugs? “I’m not a huge fan of head wounds. But Levi fixed me up, so it's all good now.” He nudges me in the side and tingles flow from the area of contact all the way to the tips of my fingers and toes. I glance up at him, but he's already looking down at me, smiling appreciatively. It send a shock of tingles to my heart. I realize that I'm actually standing next to him, and it makes me pathetically giddy for the moment.

Ruining my the moment, though, Hanji blurts out, “Hey, don't give Grumpy the Dwarf all the credit-”

“Excuse me?” I hiss.

She winks in my direction. “You said you wanted a new nickname, so I thought of one. You deserve it! Or would you prefer to go back to your old one?”

“I want _no_ nickname!”

“Ooh, what was the old one?” Eren questions, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Don’t-” This cannot happen. It’s bad enough that Erwin knows about the nickname, but if Eren did too, I don't think I would get to live another day without being called by it. I bound over to Hanji, sliding around Eren, shoving past Erwin, and almost stumbling over a chair, before restraining the PhD devil and covering her mouth with my hand. “Don't,” I threaten again, staring daggers up at her. She tries to reply, only to be defeated by my palm. I feel the sweet, sweet relief of success, but only briefly.

“Munchkin,” Erwin announces.

Eren laughs, a beautiful, bubbly laugh that I can't bring myself to fully appreciate due to the shock of betrayal coursing through me. I turn my glare to a proud Erwin- fucking _proud_ . He’s _proud_ to have just ruined my life? “I thought you were better than this,” I say to him. That just makes everyone laugh, though I was not trying to be comedic. None of this is fucking comedic. I release Hanji and slump down in my chair in defeat. Eren follows, ruffling my hair before taking the seat next to me at the square table, and I never knew I liked people touching my hair until he did it. Or maybe I just like him touching my hair. That's entirely possible.

“Cheer up, munchkin. I like your nickname,” the flower boy says to me. I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. It sounds slightly better coming from him, but it still makes me want to surgically remove my ears so I never have to hear that word again. Hanji soon takes the spot across from me, closest to the probably horribly tainted sauce, and after grabbing shitty fruity beers for everyone, Erwin returns to his chair. We all start filling our plates with food.

“Let's take a poll,” Hanji says as she tries to balance an overflowing spoonful of noodles across the table. “Munchkin or Grumpy the Drawf? Old or new? Eren, you first.”

“Fuck me,” I mutter under my breath.

With a glance over at me, Eren taps his chin in thought. He has half of the loaf of bread on his plate. “Definitely munchkin.”

“I have to agree,” Erwin adds. “I'm a fan of both, but munchkin is short and simple.” He looks at me, a smirk threatening on his lips. “Just like you, Levi.”

“Ohhhhh!” Eren starts hollering, pounding his hands on the table, and Hanji quickly joins in. Suddenly my greatest wish is to shrink to the size of a bread crumb, crawl into Erwin’s ear, and inconspicuously torture him for the rest of his life.

“Munchkin it is, then!” Hanji declares, raising her bottle for a toast. Erwin and Eren do the same, but I refuse. I refuse to be a part of my own mockery. I'm forced to though, when Eren grabs my hand, wraps my fingers around my bottle, and lifts it up to _clink_ with everyone else.

“To Munchkin!” Hanji cheers.

“To Munchkin!” the other two echo.

I ask myself why I went along with this horrible idea.

Eren releases his grip just long enough for me to put my hand back in my lap. Then he's immediately patting around on my legs until he finds it again, taking my hand in his own and squeezing it. He smiles at me playfully, and I can't believe him. I can't believe all the shit that's happened so far in just one day. I try to ignore how painfully loud my heartbeat sounds and let a corner of my lip pull up a little. His eyes light up.

This is why I went along with this horrible idea - Eren.

“Are you guys playing footsie or something?” Hanji accuses, glancing back and forth between us knowingly. Eren lets go of my hand. So much for being a fucking wingman, Hanji. She starts kicking my feet, and then I try to kick her back, but end up striking Erwin instead, and soon everyone is just kicking the shit out of everyone else, their shrieks and laughter filling up the tiny kitchen. The games quickly come to an end when the pot full of noodles almost falls off the edge of the table. Then we actually start eating the food I slaved for hours making.

 

* * *

 

 

After a disastrous attempt at cleaning up, complete with a broken plate and a giant red sauce stain on the floor that gets into the cracks between the tiles and everything, Erwin has the brilliant idea to play Mario Party (yes, a 30 year old man is allowed to own Mario Party). He says his reasoning is, “Our dear friend Eren here has never played it,” which we _did_ find out at dinner, but Hanji and I know Erwin’s secrets. The fucker always wins at Mario Party. Always. We go along with it anyway though because we’re too buzzed to argue. We make the mistake of playing the long version. A couple extremely competitive hours later, and we’re finally at the end. Eren and Erwin are so close in scores that one bonus star could make or break them.

“Neither of us have ever come this close to beating him!” Hanji exclaims, flailing her arms around like a madman and nearly spilling the weird drink she made with some liquor that I don’t even remember buying. I take the glass out of her hands and set it on the side table. She doesn’t even notice. “Overthrow King Erwin! King Eren will rise!”

I’m leaning back in the couch, a bottle of shitty, non-fruity beer in my hand that I’d stolen out of Erwin’s garage fridge at some point. My controller is discarded on the coffee table. I’m stewing in my indifference towards this game. I win a lot of mini-games, work up a ton of coins at one point, and land on all of the exciting spaces, yet I come in last place every single time. My only explanation is that the game fucking hates me. I’d given up a long time ago. I look over at Eren, who’s sitting in between me and Hanji on the couch. He’s on the edge of his seat, gripping the controller like his life depends on it and curling his lips. He’s trying not to smile and it’s fucking adorable. I have enough booze in me that I might just have to kiss him if he wins.

The bonus stars start being awarded, and everyone’s eagerly staring at the screen. I find myself watching Eren instead. His fingers fumble around with the joystick and he lets his smile appear. Some hair falls in his face and he brushes most of it back, getting rid of the rest of it with a flip. He flicks his head in my direction and suddenly he’s looking at me, grinning wildly, beautifully, so fucking beautifully, and his eyes are wide with both excitement and surprise.

“You could win!” he tells me.

“King Munchkin!” Hanji screeches.

I glance at the screen to see my Yoshi being rained upon by the last bonus star - my third one.

“This has happened before,” Erwin says from the armchair, also known as his throne, confidence in his voice. But when I look over at him, his eyebrows are furrowed nervously. “He’s still lost before even with three bonus stars. This is just going to be like every other time.”

The end scene plays. Hanji’s Wario gets left behind first, so I didn’t get last. That’s a shocker. Next to drop is Eren’s Peach, and Hanji starts bouncing up and down on the couch. Eren groans and falls backwards, slumping into the cushions in a similar position to mine. When he looks over at me though, he’s smiling. My heart hurts. The final two are Erwin’s Donkey Kong and my Yoshi - first and second place. I’m fully expecting Yoshi to fall and Donkey Kong to be crowned the winner, but that doesn’t happen. It’s the opposite. Yoshi wins.

Eren and Hanji scream at the top of their lungs, and suddenly I can barely comprehend what’s happening to me. Bodies are all over. Shouting fills my ears to the brim. Eren’s lips are on my face, the smallest distance away from my own lips. I’m lifted on to his back by Hanji and forced to wrap my arms around his neck to prevent myself from falling to the ground. He piggy-back parades me around the room, both him and Hanji chanting, “All hail King Levi!” Hanji shoves Erwin out of his throne and I’m quickly dropped into his place.

“I have a crown!” Eren cheers. He runs into the kitchen and returns with his flower headband, bending down to my level and delicately placing it on my head. For the moment, it feels like we’re the only two people in the room, and I decide that I must be going insane. Eren then takes my hand in his own and kisses it softly. His face is flushed red with drunkenness, and he’s about to look up at me through his long lashes, I can feel it, but Hanji jumps in and starts shaking Eren by the shoulder.

“Let’s be his bitches!” she yells. Eren giggles and nods enthusiastically. I can’t find the words to protest before their squeezing themselves into the throne-chair, one on either side so they're practically sitting on me. “Erwie, put this on Snapchat for me,” Hanji whines, and _Erwie_ reluctantly takes her phone from her and points it at us.

Unbelievably overwhelmed and too intoxicated to fully comprehend what's going on, I allow my arms to be forcibly draped over the two idiots’ shoulders. Hanji crosses one of her legs across my thighs and leans her head on top of mine, her hand resting on my collarbone, while Eren decides to push his entire fucking being against my side. His body curls around me. One knee brushes just below my belt. His fingers mess with the buttons trailing down the front of my shirt, undoing one of them even. My only warning is the slight sensation of tickling hair and warm breath against my neck before he’s pressing his lips to my skin.

“Hanji, you should pout or do, dare I say, a duck face or something. Smiling does not go with the vibe you guys are trying to pull off,” Erwin orders, holding the phone like it’s a professional camera. She salutes him with her free hand. “Eren, as much as the king’s probably enjoying it, giving him a hickey isn’t very photo-worthy. You should probably do something different.” So much for being a fucking wingman, Erwin. I try to tell him to fuck off, but Eren bites down before detaching himself and it just comes out as a pathetic, life-ruining whine. Hanji breaks character and starts giggling.

“What should I do then, Mr. Cameraman?” Eren drawls, smirking unapologetically.

Erwin thinks for a moment, finally saying, “I don’t know, lick his face,” and with a wave of his hand, it is done. Eren slowly drags his tongue up my cheek, wiggling his eyebrows at me, and I desperately want to go back to his first pose because this one is fucking disgusting. Once he reaches my eye, he stops and looks over at Erwin expectantly. Tall, blonde, and handsome gives a thumbs up of approval.

I mumble an, “Ew,” and wipe Eren’s saliva off of my face after making only a halfhearted attempt at pushing him away. It is _Eren’s_ tongue after all, which I bet gets brushed twice a day based on the pearly whiteness of his teeth, and not Hanji’s. I can deal with it if it’s Eren.

Lastly, Erwin commands, “King, quit looking like you’re about to shit your pants and pose.” I try to flush out every thought related to my claustrophobia and all of the _Oh my God, he’s touching me everywhere_ ’s racing through my mind, and I pose.

Erwin quickly takes the picture while we’re all cooperating and then brings it over for us to see. My bitches crowd in around me, laughing hysterically the moment they lay their eyes on the masterpiece. Hanji’s delicate, wide-eyed pout is spot on, I look like a smug bastard, and the sight of Eren’s tongue hovering by my face, knees pressed against my crotch and ass, and fingers slipping into my shirt pulls at my gut, _hard_ . He makes me feel so many things and I hate him for it, _I hate him_.

 

* * *

 

Later, I’m tucked in the corner of the couch, slipping in and out of consciousness, clutching an empty Vodka bottle that I didn’t even get to drink anything from to my chest. A Michael Jackson record that I don’t remember owning plays. Hanji’s dancing on top of the coffee table and Erwin is playing a tambourine of unknown origin. Eren’s kneeling next to me, pulling at my arm and asking me to come dance with him.

“Too fucking tired,” I tell him.

“It’s only 1:00,” he argues, like that fact is going to help him any. His eyes are bright in the dim room and his hair is slicked back with his flower headband. He’s the most beautiful human being I’ve ever laid eyes on, my drunken mind swears. Now _that_ is a fact that helps him. I release my grip on the bottle a little and let him pull me up off the couch. Dizziness immediately overcomes me. At first I stumble forward into his arms, but then his body is pushing back on me and we’re both falling back into the cushions. The last few things I remember before passing out are Eren rolling off of me, Eren grabbing on to my hair and running his fingers through it, and Eren mumbling into my ear, “Did it hurt? Because you’re the only ten I see,” before letting his eyes shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> someone please tell me how i think of this utter bullshit.  
> i'm not gonna promise that there's gonna be more, but i'm not gonna promise that this is the end either. hopefully i can keep this motivation I have to write another chapter.  
> 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! kudos/comments make me really happy (✿◠‿◠)
> 
> [main blog](http://sleeption.tumblr.com/) [anime blog](http://decemberseptember.tumblr.com/)  
> [writing blog](http://equinope.tumblr.com/)  
> 


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